


The Road To Hell is Paved with Good Intentions

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Everyone Needs A Hug, Mpreg, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Omegaverse, Post-Banquet, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Viktor thought Yuuri was sober, Yuuri was not sober, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23149375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: Please read the tags!!Viktor spends an entire season longing  to meet  Yuuri Katsuki again after  their time together after the Sochi Banquet. But Yuuri never returns, and has disappeared off the face of the earth.  Viktor gives in to his desperate need to talk to Yuuri again and  buys a ticket to Hasetsu.His plan to sweep Yuuri off his feet and into a real, long-term relationship is ruined by several revelations. 1) Yuuri has no memory of their night in Sochi due to being black-out drunk  2) Yuuri is a very capable and sober-looking drunk and 3) Yuuri is pregnant.Bad Things Happen bingo Struggling against the caretaker
Comments: 13
Kudos: 222





	1. Chapter 1

Sorry- no unmated alpha allowed  
YUUTOPIA KATSUKI

つがいがない α禁止さてています。  
ユートピア勝生

The printed sign is pasted to the front door of the building that Google Maps tells Viktor is Yuutopia Katsuki. It gives him pause--- there was no notice on their website, or on yelp or any of the boards Viktor spent hours looking at since the Grand Prix final. 

He had researched Japanese etiquette backwards and forwards, spent a fair chunk of money on getting scent-neutralizing soaps and brand new socks.

It would be stupid to let one sign stop him after a 20 hour day of travel.

Right?

And he wasn’t any unmated alpha. He hadn’t marked Yuuri, but they had mated. It had been the best sex of Viktor’s life.

It would be stupid to let one sign stop him.

So Viktor slides open the door and set his shoes in a cubby hole. He didn’t fit any of the blue rubber slippers, his feet overhanging the edge. It was uncomfortable, but worth it. The front desk was empty, but a flash of color in the corner of his eye told Viktor that it wasn’t for long.

The woman-- bleach-blonde hair with grown out dark roots, dressed in burgundy and purple, stopped dead in her tracks, as if Viktor was a ghost.

Maybe he should have listened to the sign.

But instead of calling the police, or pushing him out the door, the woman yells.

“Mama!” The woman yelled, putting a hand on her hip. She continued in Japanese, something urgent sounding enough that a shorter, plump woman shuffled from down the hallway. She was dressed in the same uniform, and Viktor realized that she looked a lot like Yuuri. He would know. He had spent the remainder of the season watching Yuuri’s skates, saving every photo from phichit-chu’s instagram and tracing the soft lines of his beautiful face for the last 5 months, waiting for Yuuri to return to competition.

“Hi,” Viktor forces a smile when the older woman gasps, covering her mouth. “I’m Viktor Nikiforov-- I was hoping to see Yuuri?”

He kicks himself mentally when he realizes the two women are speaking to each other in rapid-fire Japanese, and Vikutoru Nikiforofu is definitely one of the things they are talking about.

“We can’t just spring something like this in the state he’s in.”

“But it’s Viktor Nikiforov. He’d never forgive us if he finds out his idol was here.” The Katsuki women say, but Viktor does not understand.

“Come.” Yuuri’s probably-mother waves him on.

“This way.” The younger woman hastily adds, stepping in front of them both. Viktor can tell from her build that she’s an alpha and seems to be an exception to the posted rule. Nevertheless, she keeps herself between the dining room and Viktor even as she pushed open the door.

Viktor isn’t ready when he sees him. 

He’s on his knees, wet rag in hand, wiping down a set of tables for the next customer. He looks up, like a scared mouse, his eyes wide and nervous and with dark circles underneath them. He can’t bend over to get the entire table-- he can’t bend over at all, the round swell of his belly in the way. His purple apron is tied underneath it, and his free hand is pressed to the small of his back.

He’s beautiful.   
He’s fragile.

He’s pregnant.  
He immediately shrinks back, slouching in a pointless way to hide his huge belly, his eyes immediately going downcast.

Viktor dives forward, sitting on his knees and sliding forward, his heart high in his chest.

But Yuuri scrambles back as if Viktor is fire and he’s been burned. The younger woman moves forward, growing something that Viktor doesn’t need to know Japanese to understand that is a threat.

“Is it mine?” Viktor blurts out. He regrets it on his end and Yuuri’s-- Yuuri looks horrified, eyes too big and body too far away.

“How?” Yuuri chokes out, the first person to address him in English since he left Fukuoka. 

Viktor blinks, dumbfounded. “Our night in Sochi.”

“Our what?” Yuuri remains firmly pressed against the wall. His hands are shaking on his knees. His hair looks impossibly softer and shinier than it did last december.

“Our...we danced.. All night… Then we went back to your room.” Viktor swallowed. “Unless… you’ve mated with someone since then?”

Yuuri shivers, his dark eyes looking far away. “I don’t know who the alpha is.” 

Viktor’s heart twists, bile rising in his throat. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up any trauma. I just thought…”

“It was conceived sometime around the Grand Prix.” Yuuri continues with the same achingly empty stare. 

Viktor’s emotions get stuck in his throat, burning and freezing at the same time. “Well...we were together the night of the Grand Prix banquet… if anything happened to you before then, the ISU needs to know. I saw Celestino get you for your ride to the airport.” Viktor felt sick at the idea. Was that the reason Yuuri had disappeared from skating?

“No. I would remember it if I spent the night with you.” Yuuri’s horror takes on a sharpened edge, his brow furrowing. “I was mentally weak.. I failed… I got last place, and I only went to the banquet so I could drink my way out of thinking about it.”

Viktor doesn’t move from his spot, fidgeting nevertheless. “Do you remember anything?”

“No. I was drunk.” His eyes look glossy, filled with unshed tears. 

“You… you were drunk?” Viktor gulps, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “At Sochi?”

“Yes.”

“But.. you pole danced. You did the salsa with me...you walked all the way back to the room. Y-you were the one who took my pants off.” Viktor stutters, his hand going to his mouth. He chews at his nails, a habit he broke in high school.

“I remember going to show my face, and drinking half a table of chapange glasses… then I was on the flight back to Detroit with the worst headache of my life. I would have remembered dancing with you.”

A few tears spill over Yuuri’s cheeks.

“But… Yuuri…” Viktor’s hand shakes as he pulls out his phone. He barely manages to unlock it, but navigating to the folder where he’s saved all the photos-- from the dance-off to a bed-cuddling selfie -- is muscle memory. Though it's the most embarrassing-- and a picture Viktor took for only himself-- it’s also the most damning proof.

“I think the baby is mine.” Viktor swallows, pressing his knuckles to his mouth, holding out his phone to show Yuuri. 

Yuuri stares at the photo. Viktor knows he sees it. But then Yuuri cries-- the tears stream down his face, an ugly sob ripping from his chest. Yuuri’s sister drags Viktor to the other side of the room, while his mother moves between them all. She cradles her son in her arms as he tries to talk, but the words are choked air, and he only struggles to breathe.

Mari points toward the door, and Viktor stands up. He hesitates, watching Yuuri rub his eyes and fight to breathe-- curling up the best he can around the swell of his stomach.

Viktor manages to take two steps before Yuuri cries out in English again.

“No! Stay.” He begs. Viktor doesn’t move, waiting until Yuuri’s sobs calm into hiccups. He waits until Yuuri clumsily scoots along the tatami and closes the distance between them. Viktor doesn’t dare move-- he can’t bear to see Yuuri flinch away, or to start crying again.

His nose is red, and even his ears flush with his cheeks before he even asks.

“Can I see your wrist?” His voice is low, and quiet. Shy.

Viktor offers his wrist immediately, biting his bottom lip when Yuuri’s hands cradle his wrist and his lips brush the scent glands, and he takes in Viktor’s scent. Yuuri closes his eyes, before squeezing them tightly as a full-body shiver overtakes him. 

Viktor can vaguely hear Yuuri’s sister curse colorfully, but most of his attention is taken over by the absolute beauty of Yuuri’s neck, and the submissive pose it arched into in response to his scent.

It’s gone in a second, Yuuri pressing his hands to his face, muttering something incomprehensible and disbelieving.

“You’re so pretty, Yuuri.” Viktor coos, at a loss as what he really should say. He is a storm of emotions-- happiness but heavy guilt, shame at being the only one sober enough to truly remember and consent. He had thought Yuuri to be sober, but in the end, it wasn’t for Viktor’ to decide that for him. 

And because of that, Yuuri had spent the past five months alone, shrinking in shame and folding into himself. Hiding in his childhood home, forced away from his life’s work. Viktor had had nothing but good intentions-- he had wanted it too. He still wants it.

But more than that, he wants Yuuri to be happy and whole. He wants to fix it.

Yuuri peeks at Viktor through his fingers, the earlier horror morphing into mortification. 

“I can’t believe it’s you.” Yuuri mumbles. 

Viktor smiles brightly in return. “You told me about your posters. Do you know how hard it is to buy posters for you? Katsuki fans know how to bid.”

Yuuri laughs for the first time in months.

It’s a good first step.


	2. Part 2

-

Viktor isn’t turned away either, which is one more blessing. Yuuri introduces his family, and Hiroko is the one to invite him to stay. He hadn’t planned on it, but he also didn’t expect to be a father either. Probable father, at least. Yuuri refuses to acknowledge that their night together was possible. Even though Yuuri immediately returned to Hasetsu after his disasterous performance at nationals, and didn’t drink due to early morning sickness.

Viktor finds out about the past bit by bit as the days pass. Calling him vorobushek-- little sparrow-- seems to help the skittish distanceYuuri keeps putting between them. He’s just as flighty as a bird, light on his feet and nervous. But the nickname helps him from being overwhelmed at the sound of his name in Viktor’s voice. And Viktor finds relief at that-- and relief that Yuuri doesn’t know the romantic implications of the name.

“Let’s go outside,” Viktor offers after his third day staying with the Katsuki’s. There’s no plan-- no expected end. Viktor has no what to do. “I want to know about your hometown.”

Yuuri is hesitant , his hand resting on the top of his stomach. “People are busy…”  
Viktor blinks.

“I usually go out with two alphas… My dad, and Mari… “ Yuuri swallows. “Hasetsu is small, but there’s a lot of tourists, and since I’m not marked…”

Viktor’s stomach sinks. Of course… a pregnant, unmated omega was rare, and in Russia, usually only those who worked in the red light district were left to such a fate. There was a stigma, and because of it, Yuuri was in danger. A bird in a cage.

“Vorobushek.. I’m sorry,” Viktor drops his gaze to the floor, biting his lip.  
~

One day, Yuuri and his mother are gone from early morning until lunch time. Mari still refuses to talk to Viktor, and Toshiya, cheerful and willing to, only seems to know enough English to say good morning and good night.   
There’s a minor commotion when Yuuri and his mother return-- Mari leaves the patrons in the dining room and hurries toward the entrance. Yuuri is in maternity clothes-- a loose, drapey shirt and cotton pants that are rolled up over bare ankles. He twists a black square of paper in his hands, crinkling the stiff paper.

Yuuri walks past Mari, stopping a few inches away from Viktor. He still doesn’t meet his eyes right away, but this time he forces his head up. “It’s a girl.” He crumples the paper in his hand-- the ultrasound print-- at the same time Viktor crushes him in a hug. He doesn’t kick or push Viktor away for the first time since Viktor arrived. He’s stiff, keeping his arms by his side, but Viktor’s heart soars with the progress.

~  
Initially, Viktor was terrified that the mystery of his pregnancy and the trauma had forced Yuuri into distancing himself from the baby and himself. But the longer he spent with Yuuri, the better he felt. Maybe it was the fact that Viktor had came with an explanation, or that there was finally someone who wasn’t judging Yuuri for it.. But he was gradually opening up, like a slowly blooming flower.

Viktor catches Yuuri alone in the kitchen, whispering to his stomach as he sorted though the cabinets looking for a snack.

He catches Yuuri rubbing his belly, curling around it during his ever-increasing afternoon naps.

Best of all, Yuuri no longer steps back when Viktor moves forward. Sometimes, their fingers even brush. Yuuri smiles softly as they wash the dishes together.

Life feels normal.

Then comes the question.

Yuuri is jittery all day-- more distant than ever, avoiding Viktor. Hiroko sighs, giving Viktor a look he can’t read. He has no idea what he has or hasn’t done. It takes three excruciating hours before Yuuri asks.

“Viktor..” Yuuri sits across the table, immediately fidgeting with his hands. His fingernails are bitten, and he looks like a mess. Viktor closes the book he had brought from Russia, setting it on the space between them. He offers a smile, even though Yuuri is staring at his ruined cuticles.

“Will you take a DNA test?” Yuuri says it so quickly Viktor has to think hard to parse the words.  
“For the baby…” Yuuri clarifies.

“Of course.” Viktor nods, trying to give his best comforting smile.

“The appointment is in twenty minutes.” Yuuri adds, again too quickly.

Ah.

Viktor hates hospitals-- and has hatd them for years. But Viktor had decided on a cold night in Sochi that he would do anything Yuuri asked him-- and he didn’t plan on taking that back.

It ends up being a simple cheek swab before Viktor is ushered out. It’s a bit more for Yuuri-- they draw blood from his arm, judging by the bandaid in the bend of his arm. Hiroko is always there for hospital visits, and she pats both Yuuri and Viktor’s backs soothingly. They stop for lunch at Mos Burger, where Yuuri dips fries in his milkshake and Viktor spends the whole time watching him instead of eating.

“Vicchan, more?” Hiroko tries more with English-- Viktor has seen her pestering Mari and Yuuri to teach her small phrases, and she’s spent afternoons with a dog-eared phrasebook. “I… Order… more.. Yuuri.” Hiroko smiles brightly. Viktor blinks, looking down at his own burger with the single bite he’s taken of it.

“I’m.. not hungry. But thank you.” Viktor feels guilty-- it was definitely not a cheap burger, and Hiroko has done nothing but be kind. There’s no reason for him to feel anxious, but he does. He sets the burger down, planning to focus on Yuuri’s lips on the straw of his water bottle instead.

“Do you.. Want this?” Viktor pushed his tray toward Yuuri-- he didn’t even try the fries, but Yuuri no longer hesitates. He takes the half-eaten burger, peeling the bun back pulling the pickles off before sinking his teeth into it without a second thought.

Viktor’s stomach leaps-- not from hunger-- but the animalistic pleasure of providing for his omega, even though Yuuri isn’t his and it really isn’t his food.

Viktor goes out that afternoon and returns with ingredients to make borscht. The ground beef cost a pretty penny, but its the one thing Yuuri has consistently been craving. Hiroko swoons when Viktor asks to cook that nights dinner, and hovers nearby, pulling knives and measuring spoons out of drawers for him. She even peels half of the potatoes, humming happily. She only stops to make Yuuri a glass of Calpis yogurt drink when he putters into the kitchen with his Nintendo DS and bedhead. He settles at the kitchen table with his donut-shaped duck pillow between his belly and the table. Yuuri is finally letting his mother fuss over him-- staying still when she pulls her finger through his hair and feels his forehead. They speak in low Japanese, but it doesn’t sound secretive. Yuuri pointedly takes a sip of his drink, and Hiroko seems satisfied enough that Viktor can guess what they are talking about. Viktor desperately wants the casual touch-- he wants to feel Yuuri’s warm skin again. While things are getting better, Viktor can’t force anything. Especially when he is taking so much already.

The Katsuki’s are over enthusiastic about dinner-- Toshiya tries to learn Russian, Hiroko sighs happily about the treat about being able to relax, even though she was in the kitchen the whole time. Even Mari compliments the soup. But it doesn’t matter-- all that matters is Yuuri. Viktor watches him intently, and its as if Yuuri knows its for him. He eats two bowls, his cheeks red to the tips of his ears. Pleasure curls in Viktor’s stomach when Yuuri licks his lips, and he foregoes the onsen for a long,private shower.

~  
The doctor’s call Viktor’s phone with the results-- maybe it’s because he is an alpha, or the questioning father-- Viktor doesn’t know. What matters is that he doesn’t speak Japanese and the doctor refuses to speak English. Viktor runs into Yuuri’s room, and Yuuri only jumps in shock as the door slams open.

“Translate?” Viktor manages one word as he hands Yuuri his phone. He takes it without question, holding it to his ear with a sleepy “Moshi moshi?”

Viktor feels himself vibrate in his skin as he watches Yuuri listen to the customary greeting. He watches intently, but Yuuri’s eyes are blank with practiced difference.

They say their goodbyes, and Yuuri stares at the screen for a long moment. Viktor fears the worst, wondering how long until he has to get to the airport, when Yuuri jumps him. His weight throws Viktor off balance, but he catches Yuuri, his arms tight around his chest and fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

Yuuri cries at first, a sharp gasp that doesn’t help Viktor’s nerves.

“She’s yours,” Yuuri says into Viktor’s collarbone, laughing nervously. “You’re the father.” He looks up at Viktor, tears and relief in his eyes.

Viktor wilts, melting against Yuuri, and he supports Viktor back. “I’m so glad.”

“Me too. Even if I don’t remember.” Yuuri smiles, tentative and fleeting, but it sparks something in Viktor.

“Yuuri… Will you be my mate?”

Yuuri just stares for a moment-- the smile stays. 

“Okay.” He says softly, his cheeks still wet. “I mean. Yes. Yes. Please.”

~  
Viktor offers to pay for a hotel room, but Yuuri vehemently denies it-- it’s expensive, too suspicious-- and theres no way Mari would let him leave with a single alpha escort.

So Viktor sneaks into Yuuri’s bedroom at 12:30 on the dot, when the rest of the house is fast asleep. Everyone but Yuuri, who sits on his bed in the light of the full moon from his window. His bottom lip is bitten and red. Viktor is nervous-- he spent the last few hours googling what to do-- aftercare, and how to best assure a clean and strong mark.

But it all falls apart when Viktor’s eyes fall on Yuuri-- and how he’s only in one of his tshirts, his thighs bare and decadent looking. 

“Viktor-- I..” Yuuri bites his lip again.   
Viktor sinks onto the bed beside Yuuri, giving him time to gather his words.

“We don’t have to have sex, I just need to know where the gland is on your neck..” Viktor offers, nervously when Yuuri doesn’t say anything.

Yuuri buries his face in his hands. “I want to.”

“Hm?” Viktor moves closer, their thighs brushing.

“I want to have sex.” Yuuri stutters. “I don’t remember it, and it’s wierd-- I’m pregnant and I don’t know what sex is like.” He rambles on.

“You….?” Viktor smiles defensively. “Yuuri, were you a virgin?”

Yuuri nods his head, sinking lower, before flopping over with his head in Viktor’s lap with a long groan.

“Poor little sparrow,” Viktor laughs, and Yuuri rolls over, his eyes dark. “I’ll take care of you.”

~  
Hiroko shrieks when Yuuri goes down to breakfast. Viktor, at his mate’s request, stays upstairs for another ten minutes. The mark is still an angry red on the side of Yuuri's neck, covered with antiseptic lotion. There’s no mind-melding or psychic powers like in Viktor’s romance novels-- just the instinctual drive to seek out each other’s scent. 

Viktor stares at his own mark on his neck-- the ruined gland will scar over, and Viktor will crave Yuuri’s scent as much as Yuuri craves his. Yuuri had even shyly rubbed his wrists against Viktor’s neck, careful to avoid broken skin. He had smiled softly, closing his eyes when Viktor had returned the favor.

When Viktor goes downstairs, the family is blissfully quiet, although Hiroko’s cheeks are red as a cherry.

They finally tour Hasetsu together. They take a break early on, and Yuuri falls asleep on Viktor’s shoulder as they look out over the bay, gulls crying overhead.

Viktor loses his limited pieces of clothing, finding them on Yuuri’s bed or pulled tight over his belly.

Yuuri grows bigger, and he stays close. They go shopping, and when Yuuri goes stiff at the presence of a too-close alpha, Viktor wraps his arms protectively around Yuuri.

They spend their evenings together, Yuuri crawling into his lap, drinking cold tea when everyone else downs beers.

And then it happens.

Hiroko wakes Viktor up an hour before his alarm is set to go off. Yuuri is already in the genkan, his hand on his belly and bent forwards. Viktor doubles back, pulling on a better outfit and stopping by Yuuri's room to get his DS for him. He drops it into the bag of extra clothing for Yuuri and the pack of onesies for Katya. Yuuri is the only other one to use his childs Russian name, and Viktor wouldn’t trade it for the world.  
Despite the rush to the hospital, it isn’t until near midnight when Akari decides she is ready. Yuuri pushes, his breath a howl and whimper. His knuckles are white on the rails of the bed, and Viktor does his best-- staying out of the way, occasionally dabbing the sweat off of Yuuri’s forehead.

Yuuri collapses, and there is a loud, healthy cry. He is limp when the doctor rests his baby o his chest, moving the hospital gown out of the way. He looks nearly asleep, lifting his hand to stroke the chestnut brown hair on the crown of his babies head.

Viktor feels something inexplicable-- something like that night at Sochi, but unique all the same. The baby is purple and squished, but she had Yuuri’s dark hair and the bow-shaped lips Viktor knows he got from his mother. Her mouth is heart-shaped as she screams,

“You take her.” Yuuri breaths, closing his eyes.

It’s a good start to fatherhood.


End file.
